Hour of Darkness
by SophieSaulie
Summary: Inspired by and dedicated to Faye Dartmouth and her co-author, lena7142. None of the characters are mine, but I was so moved by their story, Rack and Ruin, this one wrote itself with my own very Pollyanna twist to it. I highly recommend you read their story, it's a wonderful read.
1. Chapter 1

**Hour of Darkness**

**Chapter 1:**

Inspired by and dedicated to Faye_Dartmouth and her co-author, lena7142. None of the characters are mine, but I was so moved by their story, Rack and Ruin, this one wrote itself with my own very Pollyanna twist to it. I highly recommend you read their story, it's a wonderful read.

_When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me_

_Speaking words of wisdom, let it be_

_And in my hour of darkness she is standing right in front of me_

_Speaking words of wisdom, let it be_

_-Let it be by The Beatles_

Everyone had left except for Rick.

He knew that Billy had said he didn't want him there, but unlike Michael and Casey, he couldn't leave him. It's not that they were cruel, but perhaps just a little more jaded and maybe Rick was just that much more stubborn in holding onto his high expectations. He knew that they would come around. He believed that friendship would trump the shock they felt. And Rick, he was still new (_"far too new at this game to be considered smooth"_) to be cynical, not yet jaded and had been nurtured enough by Billy to know that he may think he wanted to be alone, but Rick knew that he needed the complete opposite.

He had been alone for three months.

Too long alone and because of what he had done, he now he believed he deserved to be alone for the rest of his life. Billy pushing everyone away was Billy punishing himself by depriving himself of the much needed human contact that he felt he didn't deserve because of his betrayal, but Rick saw through it.

Rick understood, but wouldn't let that belief settle and take root in Billy.

Billy needed to know that they, out of everyone, would forgive him so that he could, then, forgive himself. Still, having committed the ultimate cardinal sin of the spy craft in his eyes, Rick knew Billy felt too ashamed to ask it of them, that he felt he didn't deserve it from them. Maybe he even felt a little angry that he would be expected to ask it of them, beg it from them to rescue his sanity; that a small part of him felt that they owed it to him for enduring as long as he had, for believing as long as he had, for hoping as long as he had.

Rick believed that Billy had a right to be angry. They had let him lose faith in his rescue, in his friends. Where was the punishment for that sin, he wondered? For someone as positive as Billy, belief in that rescue was everything so for him to lose his grip on that, to feel that he had been truly abandoned by his friends how could they blame him for questioning that faith? Rick wondered if they deserved Billy's silence, his anger, his abandonment of them?

Maybe it was really about feeling what it would be like to be abandoned by him, to be without him.

Rick sat in a chair in the darkened bedroom, listening to Billy's sobs. He didn't say a word, hoped that Billy knew he was there, that he wasn't alone this time and that if he needed to talk, Rick would be there to listen to him.

It was the least he could do.

Billy was right. They had taken too long, had left him crumbling to pieces literally and emotionally into a darkness no man should ever fall into, had him face abandoning his hope that they would rescue him, a hope so unshakable that for Billy such a crisis of belief was unconscionable and it would be the only way any torturer would be able to crack a stalwart constitution like Billy's.

They had left him alone too long, too long to ponder that maybe they had left him behind, to allow that doubt to fester in his pain wracked mind. After so much time passing, for Billy, seemingly endless, forever, an eternity, what else could he have been expected to believe?

Even Billy's rock solid faith could be broken.

Rick would have thought that was impossible months ago.

But even Billy's resolve could be squashed under the boot heel of doubt.

Rick didn't believe Billy had limits.

But given enough time, too much time, even Billy, funny, positive, Billy could be cracked open like an egg and devoured, leaving the shell of that man to suffer more self-inflicted torture; self-doubt and self-recrimination, the worst kinds, the kinds of torture that never left you because those tortures, the self-flagellation that always comes with a feeling of failure, came at the hands of oneself and that was one torturer you couldn't walk away from.

Though Billy hadn't said it outright, he had revealed that he had made a similar promise to a fellow prisoner there, that he would be rescued too, had bestowed that unwavering faith in his friends to that person as well so they had not only broken a promise to Billy, but he was sure to Billy's mind, he, himself, had broken his promise to the only company he had who had kept him sane while he had waited for them.

Billy never made promises he didn't keep and never would have conceived that the promise he was making to his fellow compatriot in captivity would never be fulfilled. Rick sighed. He shouldn't have counted on other, less reliable, people to make his promise come true, but Rick knew that Billy hadn't believed he was deceiving that person. It would have been better if he had, all the more painful that they had let them both down.

Billy may have wanted to be alone, both from despair and anger, but Rick had been taught by another teacher in his life, his mother. She had instilled in him that forgiveness was everything, asking for it, giving it, accepting it and you didn't give up until you did one of those things or did everything in your power to receive forgiveness. Only then could wrongs be righted.

So Rick sat and waited. When the sobs went silent and a stuffy wheeze of breathing replaced it, he took in a breath and allowed himself to relax. Billy had finally fallen asleep.

Later that night, though, he had been startled awake by Billy's scream. Loud, piercing, heartbreaking, desolate. In the short time that he had known Billy, he had **never** heard sounds like that from him. He had only heard joy, laughter, silliness; poetic recitations from poems written by his own hand as well as others and most certainly from his favorite source, Shakespeare.

But never screams, not even from the most severe pain, at least pain he had witnessed. Still, Rick hadn't been there when he had been beaten, burned and crushed under the weight of torture performed by professionals for three long months. Perhaps he had screamed like that then. It gave Rick a shiver of fear.

Rick went over to the bed and held him. He fought off Billy's flailing, tried to soothe his hyperventilated breathing and just held on to him.

"GET AWAY FROM ME! DON'T TOUCH ME! I broke, don't you get it! Are you **THAT** DENSE that you don't understand what that means? Have I not taught you ANYTHING?"

Billy protested, trying to pry away from Rick's hold, but he was too tired and too weak to compete with Rick's strength.

"You taught me so many lessons, Billy. You taught me how to be a better operative, but even more important than that, you taught me how to give compassion, to have an unwavering belief in your fellow operatives," Rick said, swallowing down his own pain, "...that you never leave a friend behind, and those were just some of the lessons...I let you down –"

"RUBBISH! Don't you DARE try to compare what I did to –"

"To what? Leaving you there in that hellhole for **three whole** months? No, Billy, I did fail you. I broke the single most important rule. I made a promise to you that I would never leave you behind and I did. **WE** did. It doesn't matter that we got you out eventually three months LATER. That's just the excuse we tell ourselves. You **should** be angry. You **should** feel betrayed. You should **hate** me; hate all of us. You, who had already been betrayed by one country, by your friends there, by Carson, **SHOULD** feel betrayed. You have more right than anyone," Rick said, out of breath from restraining Billy and from his declarations, feeling the rush of emotions he'd been trying to contain for Billy's sake finally being released. "And…I'm sorry, Billy…so, so sorry. I know I could say it a **hundred** times and it wouldn't be enough or make any difference, but like it or not, whether you forgive me or not, I'm here now and I'm not leaving you."

Billy's protestations stopped as he saw and heard the sincerity in Rick's pleas for his apology. Suddenly he felt humbled by the admission and all he could do was put his face into his hands and softly sob. He had heard the words and it had meant everything to hear them at that moment.

It had meant salvation.

He looked back up at Rick and released a sigh that seemed to reverberate throughout his body, a shudder that allowed a modicum of calm to settle into his muscles. Rick felt then that it was safe to let Billy go.

"I don't know if I can go back, Rick…it's not because of the ridicule, not even because of the doubt I'll see in every one's eyes. I've faced that and worse when I was exiled…it's none of that…it's worse than that...I…I don't think I can trust myself anymore. I can't risk the three of you after what happened. I've looked into the heart of darkness. It stared its steely unfeeling eyes back into me and robbed me of my soul," Billy said, his voice craggy from yelling, rubbing his face in despair.

"No, Billy, it didn't take your soul," Rick said. "All it took was your confidence. As for trust, I'd trust you with my life without hesitation over anyone in the Agency. That hasn't changed because of what you went through. You didn't break because you were weak. You broke because you were tortured, driven beyond human endurance, even a rock solid one like yours, by experts."

Rick sighed.

"Your torturers didn't break you, Billy. WE did by letting you down. Did you really expect me to believe that you were invincible, without any fear at all? You know what **you** taught **me**? That feeling fear is natural and human, that _'it reminds us that we're vulnerable…fragile even' _and those words keep me going whenever I feel like I can't do or face something. If you need forgiveness, then consider it yours without any reservation from me, but you didn't lose your soul. Far from it, if anything, what happened to you just proves to me how truly strong you really are. I heard what they did to you and my God, Billy, hearing it all almost made me break. No one, not even Casey could have withstood all that and…"

Rick choked back emotion, "…lived."

He took in a few breaths to calm himself again.

"I know you wished you hadn't lived, but I'm glad you did and it also tells me that you really didn't want to die in there either, because if you had, you would have made it happen…pushed them to end you," Rick swallowed as his jaw trembled.

Billy shook his head tiredly.

"Doing that would have ended your pain...your disappointment in us, but you held on to hope, Billy. You held on to it for as long as you could, but we broke our promise."

Billy listened with apt appreciation for Rick's apology and analysis. He had lost all perspective on what had happened to him as well as any ability to look at the circumstances objectively. It was almost comforting to hear Rick's evaluation. It would be a nice delusion to think that he had any presence of mind to believe his will to live would overcome his desire to die. He wasn't convinced any of that had been there. To his mind, it was just dumb luck that he had survived it.

"I know that you would NEVER have broken if you hadn't lost faith that we were coming to rescue you. I KNOW that in MY soul. You would NEVER have broken if we hadn't let you down first, if we hadn't taken that hope away from you. I KNOW you. I know the man you are. Nothing you can say will convince me you're not that man anymore. WE failed you, Billy. We drove you to this and I'm so sorry."

Billy listened and a sense of relief fell over him. He was far from well bodily and especially psychologically, but hearing Rick tell him that it was okay to feel betrayed and lost allowed him to forgive himself if only a little and to impart forgiveness in return for it.

"It's all right, Rick," he said barely as a whisper.

"No, it's not, Billy. It never will be. For all you went through, it will never be all right, but I want you to know…no, I **need** you to know that it doesn't change our friendship, it will NEVER change that, not for me anyway."

Billy admired Rick's ability to separate the man from the spy. It's often lost along with trust in the business.

"Thank you, mate," Billy breathed tiredly.

"For what?"

"For reminding me that there are still men like yourself who live by their principles and have strength of character."

Rick straightened with the compliment.

"**You** gave me that, Billy. **You** taught me that."

"I hardly think so…you came in through the door with those qualities, yeh? Don't ever compromise them. Like I did…"

Billy closed his eyes, the rush of emotion still strong like the ebb of a tide influenced by lunar forces. He slid back down onto the bed, exhausted.

"Billy, you didn't –"

"Aye, lad, I did. I betrayed not only you, but other operatives as well…I can only hope to God that Higgins called them all back in time, that no lives were…"

Billy rubbed his face in a mix of despair and frustration.

"You were tortured –"

"No, Rick! You talked about excuses, well, that's also just an excuse to hide my cowardice. I cannot abide that anymore. Do you hear me?" Billy said, his body curling into a ball, his knuckles white with fists, veins and tendons stark through his still papery skin. "I gave up. It's as simple as that. I wanted it to end, you see? The interrogation, the torture. I knew that the only way I could speed up the process was to make myself no longer worth anything to them."

"Billy…I don't believe -"

"Believe it, lad. I KNEW painfully well what I was doing. I wanted it all to stop. What you call my will to live, to not commit suicide through my captors is a farce. My last vestige of hope was that I wouldn't cause any deaths from my cowardly act …" Billy's face then transformed from pityinto anger. "BUT for a traitor to hope like that…in the end, that was the ultimate cowardice. Truth is, a quick death would have been too merciful. I lived so I could truly understand the heinousness of my betrayal. That's worse than death. "

Rick listened, but he didn't hear a coward, he heard a man who thought he had no more to give and it scared him.

"I don't believe you."

"Believe me or don't believe me, think whatever you like, but I know it to be true."

"Why are you doing this to yourself?"

Billy then sprang up, his body rigid with frustration.

"Why are **you** holding such high esteem for someone who put you and the others in dire peril? You've placed me on quite a lofty pedestal, there, one I never aspired to nor deserved, mate and now, now you understand how steep a fall from that grace can be when you forfeit your principles like I have, when you believe that nothing is more welcoming then being put to death so that the pain can stop."

Billy tried to control his anguish, but he knew it was to no avail, the pain that came with it was now a part of him. He couldn't shed it off as if it were a second skin no matter how much he wanted to do that. His posture then deflated.

"Rick, you are a FAR better man than you give yourself credit for and for which you give me too much credit in forming. I can never measure up to that. Michael and Casey, they know the truth about what I've become. I don't blame them. You must align yourself with them and leave me behind once and for all."

Rick sighed and shook his head.

"Talk all you want about your failings…we all have them, you know, but make no mistake, I learned the best things about being a spy from you. Nothing you say now will diminish that. And I don't mean becoming a paranoid bastard or a human weapon or just a charmer. None of you are the sum totals of your 'job descriptions', but you taught me that I didn't have to compromise my principles or who I was, to be a spy. I made plenty of mistakes because of my overinflated idealism, but only you told me to hang on to it, that it wasn't wrong to feel that way. You can't take that back or anything else you told me and tell me you didn't mean any of it," Rick was on the verge of tears. "You can't sit there and say that you're no longer that man because I will NEVER believe that. They may have broken your body and maybe even your belief in yourself, but don't expect me to play along because I won't. I know better. I know you better than you do apparently."

Billy listened, heard the tears and found his throat clogging up with the conviction behind those words.

"I don't know if I'm that man anymore, Rick," Billy said solemnly.

"Well, I do and if Michael and Casey think less of you then I don't want to align myself with them. Call me idealistic. I know it won't be easy but I believe that you will defeat your demons. You can do this and I will ALWAYS be here to make sure you're never alone again."

Billy could only smile. Rick was throwing his words back at him. He had told Rick that he could control his fear, use it and that he believed in him, that he could kidnap LaRouche.

"Throwing my words back at me, are ya? Mighty treacherous of you, there," Billy said with a smile and a sigh. "Bold words for the new guy, perhaps it's because of that, you can say them with such conviction."

"All I ask, Billy, is that you don't surrender. It's all I want from you."

"It's a bit of a tall order, you know."

"Maybe, but I know you can do it."

Billy wouldn't commit to a promise to Rick. He was done doing that. He could no longer hold himself up to that standard anymore.

Rick had to be content with the silence as he watched Billy curl up and fall asleep again, nightmares intruding, making peaceful rest impossible.

Rick watched helplessly, but stayed by Billy's side.

"I believe in you, Billy."

**ChaosChaosChaos**

He had never been claustrophobic yet he found himself unable to catch an even breath. The corridors felt as if they were alive, whispering to him, daring him to continue walking through them, threatening to entrap him like they had before, reclaiming him as their prisoner. Snickers and giggles echoed from them.

"_We broke you here..."_

"_You became a traitor here..."_

"_Why are you back?"_

"_You should have stayed cowering, huddled in a fetal position in your room..."_

"_Or do that here like you had all those months..."_

"_When your friends never came...when they abandoned you...and yet you're here again, risking your sanity and your freedom to save them...Why?"_

"_You're going to fail and they will die just like you should have. Only their deaths will be on you and you alone."_

Billy clenched his eyes closed, hoping to somehow block out the voices. He had to get to Rick. _"Foolish lad,"_ Billy thought to himself. _"Heart of a hero...I knew it all along."_

**ChaosChaosChaos**

Adele had been panic stricken when she had arrived at his place. He didn't want to answer the door, didn't want any more sympathy and comforting. It was all too much to bear because he didn't deserve any of it. But then she had said, "Rick and the others, they went back to Morovia! They've been captured! Please help me, Billy!"

It was then that he opened the door, hearing her pleading and telling him that his friends had been captured, compelling him to answer her. She rushed in, desperation in the tears streaking her face, her fear for the man she loved gleaming through her eyes.

"Adele? What is it? What's happened?" Billy asked, his deadened spy senses coming alert after a year of dormancy.

"Rick and the others, they were trying to trace the leak that caused your capture and the other prisoners..."

Billy blanched for a moment at the reminder both of his imprisonment and of his betrayal.

"The last communication we had was that they had found him. It was Illyich. He betrayed you and now..."

"He's sent the rest of them to..."

Billy couldn't even utter the words, still he bowed his head in defeat.

"But what do you want me to do, love? I'm as good as decommissioned. Besides -"

"Stop it!" Adele yelled, her desperation only escalating.

Billy flinched, but understood her anger.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she cried.

"No need to be sorry. The man you love is in danger -"

"And you have to help him! Please!"

Billy turned his gaze away, ashamed to deny her face-to-face.

"I can't. I'd only put them in further peril and perhaps even get them killed. I can't live -"

Adele took in a few breaths to gain some control over her hysteria and her expression turned stern.

"You HAVE to help them. You're the only one who can. You know the situation, the assets, and the players. You know Illyich -"

"But I've been compromised. They know I've been broken. No one will trust me with their intell now," Billy explained as much from logic as from a lack of confidence.

"Before they went dark, Rick got the intell that revealed the traitor...I told him not to go it alone, but he...and the others...they were going to the facility where they held you...they were going to take down the commander...but they've been dark for too long, Billy."

Billy felt Adele's anguish and his heart enlivened against the lost purpose he had been harboring for the past year. Suddenly, he realized that he had to step out from his darkness, not for himself, but for his mates, for Rick and for the woman who loved him.

"All right, darling. I'll go back. I'll extract them," Billy said his usual confidence wavering, but his obligation steadfast. He'd have to hope it would be enough to shore up his courage. "Do you have the information?"

Adele brightened and handed him the files without hesitation. Billy could only grin.

"Mighty confident, weren't ya?"

"Rick's not the only one who believes in you," she said, her shaky smile buoying Billy's uncertainty.

Billy swallowed as he took the files from her.

"I hope to live up to that belief," he said, a little solemnly.

Adele began to tear up again, but this time from a sense of relief.

"The only person you have to convince is yourself because I know you can save them," she placed a hand on his chest. "I never would have asked you if I didn't believe that."

He took in a deep breath and nodded.

"Fay and I got you the necessary clearance. Your plane's waiting on the tarmac."

He shook his head, an impressed smile on his face.

"So it's the two of you who's ganging up on me now, is it?"

Adele just coyly smiled as she wiped her tears away.

"And dare I ask, how is Higgins with all this?"

"Has been at a conference," Adele smiled slyly.

Billy's own smile grew at her mischievousness.

"You would make a right brilliant ODS operative, love," he complimented.

She threw herself into his arms.

"Thank you, Billy. I know what I'm asking is a lot, I know that I'm being selfish..." she said, her tears flowing again. "But thank you."

Billy allowed himself to hug her in return, placing his hands softly on her back, trying to absorb some strength from her confidence in him because all he was truly feeling at that moment was complete and utter terror at what he was heading to face. Her words were so heartfelt and so filled with expectation. He felt the weight of responsibility of bringing Rick back, of bringing them all back safe and alive. He wasn't sure at all that he had it in him to accomplish it. Still, he knew he couldn't let her know that and so he marshaled his ability to lie and deceive with this charm, shaky as it was, to put on a brave front.

"It's all right, love. I understand and I promise I'll bring him back to you," Billy said, cringing at already breaking his vow to never make another promise again.

"_Or die trying,"_ he thought to himself because there was a part of him that knew that he couldn't fail, that he would die, if necessary, to free them.

He could never go on if he lost the only men he respected, if he let them down.

He boarded the awaiting plane. He tried to keep his hands from trembling the entire flight. How far he had fallen he thought to himself. His arrogance had been veiled in the humor he had used in order to keep people guessing, even his friends. Where was that arrogance now? Broken along with his bones, his spirit, his resolve and yet there he was, back in Morovia, about to perform an extraction that he didn't think he could pull off. As expected, Adele and Fay had admitted that there were few operatives left in the region and those that were still there weren't willing to risk their lives, to entrust their lives to a tainted agent. Billy couldn't blame them.

He was alone. Just like he had been when he was last here, but suddenly, there was anger and betrayal infusing his determination.

He had one shot and Adele was right, he knew exactly where to go.

He arrived at Illyich's shop and without bothering to announce himself, he pulled out his gun and kicked in the door. There was satisfaction in appying violent force upon it. Casey would be proud, he thought.

Illyich had been startled and he tried to reach for his gun, but Billy had been quicker even being so woefully out of shape and out of practice. It was a revelation that despite all the abuse and the extensive recovery he had gone through, both physical and mental, his mind and body could still call up skills instilled in him at a moment's notice as if they were reflex. He felt like Jason Bourne without the amnesia. Oddly, though, he found himself wishing for that as well. Not knowing what he had done, to be able to wipe out those memories, memories that still plagued him as if they were still happening to him would have been a welcome relief.

But no luck there. Instead, he'd have to make do with using all of the intell he had gleaned as a prisoner to save his friends, to make those memories work for him, as opposed to having them destroy him. So he poured all of his energies into getting to his friends before it was too late, to spare them the fate that he had lived through, had barely survived through. It was all he had left to offer them now.

Billy had stopped Illyich with a quick grab and twist of his hand and palm as well as just the right amount of pressure on his thumb to subdue him. He then jabbed the barrel of his gun into Illyich's throat. He enjoyed the edgy eagerness it brought to the surface, the power driven by the rage that filled him felt satisfying, felt right, felt owed to him.

"Billy! You are back, yes? What a lovely surprise! It's good to see you friend," Illyich said nervously.

"You can bugger off the niceties, Illyich. I know what you are. I know what you did to me and even worse for you, I know what you did to my mates."

Billy's voice was laced with a hoarse growl of contempt, his tone was icy cold and unforgiving.

"Wait, wait, I can explain -" Illyich tried to squeal.

Billy pressed the barrel harder into his throat and Illyich made a choking noise.

"Nothing you can say will save you now, you traitorous git," Billy spat out. "You're going to tell me where my mates are or I will snap your windpipe like a twig and leave you to suffocate slowly."

"If you kill me, you won't find your friends, yes?" Illyich said, thinking he was making a valid point.

"Oh, you have no idea how I wish I could just end your miserable life right now, you bastard, but killing you would be much too easy for you. No, first you're going to help me find my friends because if you don't, I'll make sure you experience the fullest extent of what I learned from my lovely little incarceration at the hands of the people you sold me out to or even better, I'll just hand you over to them myself, tell them you betrayed them too. Double agents are worse scum than your average, garden variety traitor, yeh? How'd you like that, aye?"

"No, no, they will -"

"They will what? Torture you? Pummel you until you feel like a tenderized piece of meat? Smash your hands until you can't even grasp the bloody spoon they give you to eat the slop they toss at you just to keep you marginally alive so that they can start all over again, aye? OH, but my favorite was the adrenaline. I must say, that was a mighty creative touch, didn't see that coming, kept me from passing out, you see, from escaping every exquisite piece of pain they inflicted. Sounds like a right vacation, don't it, Illyich?"

Illyich could only listen and tremble as he heard a thread of madness in Billy's voice, the lack of compassion in it, more revealing, the lack of humor which was Billy's gift. Billy worried as well at how much he was enjoying seeing the terror in Illyich's eyes as he threatened him.

"Oh, and don't know if you've heard, but they broke me, they tore me to shreds, you see? Funny thing that, though, you see, you should be dead at their hands as well, since I gave you up just like you did me, and yet here you are still breathing, not a scratch on you. Here I was feeling guilty about doing that to you. How does that work, exactly, Illyich? Hmmm? Perhaps it was because you could still be useful to them? That they needed you to bring them others, aye? After all, look at how easy it was for them to rip out information out of me, turn me into a right proper Benedict Arnold, yeh? Maybe they were hoping you would sell out others for a good price. Others like MY FRIENDS! IS THAT IT, ILLYICH?"

Billy shoved Illyich into a chair, then he pressed the barrel to his temple.

"Please, please, I had to. They would have killed me! I had no choice!"

Billy clenched at the memory of his breaking, spilling everything he knew in the hopes of ending the pain. Could he be no different than Illyich now?

Analyzing it wouldn't change the past, his past. He could blame Illyich for selling him out, his torturers for the pain they inflicted, his mates for not coming soon enough, but in the end, it all came down to him. He broke, he gave in. There was no undoing that or the eradication of whatever was left of Billy's conscience. The only thing he had left was the rescue of his friends. He had no expectations for redemption.

"None of your excuses matter anymore. You better have enjoyed the thirty pieces of silver you got for me, yeh? Because it will be your last. I'll make sure of that one way or another. Must've turned quite a tidy little profit for yourself when I broke, aye?. The others, they won't break so easily and not at all if I have any say. I won't let them suffer like I did."

Illyich could only continue to tremble in terror because the once affable man that he had dealt with before was gone. All he saw in the steely blue eyes boring into his was emptiness, there was no empathy for him in them, only revenge.

"You're going to tell me where they took my friends, better yet, you're going to show me and help me get in. I'd do it without you because frankly, your company disgusts me, but I was knocked out then drugged when they snatched me so you're going to have to take me there. Lucky you, yeh? You're going to be my bloody tour guide."

"No, no, please -"

"SHUT UP! You ARE going to take me there, you hear me? This isn't a choice. Just like you gave me no choice. And if you're lucky, I might have a mind not to kill you when it's all said and done."

Billy shook with frustration, rage, and were all warring for dominance.

At the root of all of it was an overwhelming desire to make himself worthy again, worthy of rescuing his mates, worthy of rebuilding his reputation, and supreme above anything else he could achieve in his now shattered life was being worthy of his mates' trust again. How he ached to regain that from them for only in doing that would he be able to seal the desolated hole where his soul used to be, the void that had been created by the surrender of it to the foolish lie he had told himself, that once relinquished, he'd be freed from the pain. Instead, he had traded one form of torture for another, had abdicated his belief in rescue, more heinously, his belief in his friends in the pursuit of that freedom. That pain was worse than all he had suffered in that cell. He had to get to his mates before they, too, lost hope for rescue, before they lost hope in him completely, in his full recovery for only in saving them could he save himself.

"But if my friends die, I guarantee you, I will make you pay with maximum prejudice. Nothing will save you if that happens," Billy said, surprising himself at the lack of compassion in the threat.

So now he found himself stalking through the very corridors he had been dragged through to and from his cell for what seemed like an interminable period of time. He forced himself to remember as much as he could about the hallways and as many of the details of the place that would help him find the others. He had to separate himself from the emotions of those memories and act indifferent as if he were just on another mission. It took much more willpower and concentration than he had anticipated and occasionally flashes would seize him and he'd have to take a minute to clear it before it overwhelmed him.

Illyich had led him to the compound, giving him all the access codes he knew, but he also told him that he would have to get a key card from one of the guards, that much trust was denied him.

Billy couldn't risk Illyich alerting anyone while he infiltrated the compound so he had knocked him unconscious, gagged him, tied him up then placed him into the trunk of the car they arrived in, parking it just outside of the grounds. He had to hope that it would give him enough time to rescue his friends. Though he had feared the impulse of wanting to kill Illyich, had expected to lose control once at the compound, something in him had reminded him that if he let himself kill Illyich, he would become no better than the men who had tortured him, who had killed Tsykalov before his eyes. He wouldn't be able to regain himself, to look his mates in the eyes again. He'd then be as good as dead. Something of his former self that was still alive in him was telling him that there was enough left of that man to salvage. It emboldened him to keep going.

He tapped in the entry codes that Illyich had given him to gain initial access. He pulled his gun and based on his directions moved along the hallways towards the cells.

One thing he knew without Illyich having to tell him, his friends were below ground, away from sunlight, away from hope. All of the dirty work was done where no one could hear the screams, see the wounds; where the smell of blood, urine and feces could be contained and continue to haunt and decompose whatever vestige of spirit that still clung to each prisoner for eventual rescue. Even the optimistic ones. Billy knew that once he was down there, every memory would reveal itself in living color as well as in 3D sound and smell. The assault would likely send his sensory recall into overload. It would take a monumental force of will not to succumb to the helplessness he had felt while he was being held captive there. The thought of preventing his mates from enduring anymore time there continued to keep the overrides in check. He just had to hope they would hold.

He traversed swiftly through, watching, and listening. His spy senses sparked again and it had happily surprised him. He had worried that they would never come back again or that he wouldn't be able to access them when he had challenged them upon arriving at the prison, that being there would paralyze him. It gave him the much needed confidence that he could rescue his friends.

He came toward a corner and heard voices, Russian, and footsteps moving away. He craned his head around the corner and watched two guards walk away, laughing.

It gave Billy both a shiver at the indifference and a resurgence of the rage at wanting them to pay. He was certain that they had probably dragged him in and out of his cell at some point in his captivity.

Once the guards had left, Billy looked around and found a doorway with a card reader beside it. He knew that just as Illyich had said, in order for him to go any further he would have to subdue one of the guards.

He felt that he was far from the shape he had been before his imprisonment and uncertainty crept in about his ability to subdue a well-trained, physically imposing guard. Illyich was an old man, hardly a challenge, but he had remembered the strength of the guards when he had ceased to be able to walk and they had dragged him to his cell and back with relative ease, especially the more weight he lost. He clenched his eyes closed and took a breath to erase the recollection. Still, contrary to Casey Malick's assumption that nothing is better than thrashing someone into submission, Billy would have to employ more subtler methods, not only because of his own compromised physical condition, but to keep stealth still working for him. A loud commotion would hardly serve his cause or work in his favor. Suddenly he had wished he had done, at least, some of his obligatory PT exercises - who knew he would be back in Morovia doing a one-man extraction of his friends? Casey would never have caught himself unprepared. Hindsight was lovely, Billy thought to himself.

He ducked into another small hallway, watching, listening, calculating.

He didn't have as intimate a knowledge of the routine on the upper floor. He had been unconscious when he had been captured and Illyich was no spy. His visits here were more of the ass-kissing variety, like he had been towards him and the others, all fluff and effusive declarations of friendship. He was too busy smiling and complimenting to notice the rotation of the guards and where they were placed. Still, Billy could make assumptions based on his observations at that moment.

There weren't many guards here. Since every access to the prisoners were underground, all the security on this floor was for show and it worked to their advantage not to look too conspicuous to the random observer. Guards watching an innocuous compound would raise suspicions and questions. So for now, the only physical subjugating he would have to do would be to one guard to get his key card. With that card in hand, he had the key to the kingdom. He had to count on that and he knew that once subdued, he would have to then tie up and hide the guard to make sure that he wouldn't be found immediately to alert of his presence.

Billy reached for his belt buckle. He had to smile. This was Michael's technique for hiding anything contraband. Even Casey had adopted it. Michael used it for SIM cards. Billy had a couple of small hypodermics with just enough drug in each of them to knock someone out, hopefully for several hours. He only had the one attempt at overcoming the guard with the shot so the margin for error was non-existent

He watched, he listened.

He had to admit that it felt good to be back in the game again even with the new uncertainty that dogged him. Perhaps it was just. He had gotten too comfortable, things were going too well for him. He had become the fool that he had warned Rick about not becoming before he had kidnapped LaRouche. He had to, once again, appreciate the edge that fear provided. He had lost the necessary understanding of his own vulnerability, the knowledge of the fragility of life which kept operatives sharp and safe and he had paid dearly for it.

Perhaps a little humility had been in order, but he would have given anything not to have gotten that lesson the way that he had, not because of his own pain and suffering but because of the pain and suffering he had caused others. **That** he could never wish away.

He heard the footsteps. Single set. One guard. He held the needle in his palm. He had to wait for the right moment to achieve the necessary angle in order to plunge it precisely into either the jugular or carotid for the quickest effect.

He only had one shot at it.

His heart raced, his hand trembled a bit. It harked him back to his early days as an agent in MI6, young, naive, patriotic, and eager. He wouldn't recognize that man, jaded and ruined as he was now.

The guard walked past oblivious to Billy's presence. Billy took his shot and plunged the needle in. Simultaneously, he grabbed the guard's head, cupping his mouth to silence him until the drug took effect. Thankfully it had been so swift that Billy didn't have to fight against the guard's struggle. Ah, the Agency's chemists were geniuses.

He took the key card from the guard's pants pocket, opened a nearby door with it, and found a storage room. Perhaps mercurial fate was on his side after all. He dragged the guard into it. Billy tied him up with whatever was available in it and crept back out again.

He took in a few rapid breaths, both adrenaline-induced as well as fear-induced. The rush he felt was intoxicating. He was acting purely on instinct and it felt good to feel the switch turn on, a sense of auto-pilot engaging.

Key card in hand, he headed for the doorway he had spotted earlier, slid it through the card slot quickly, saw the flash of the green light indicating clearance and opened it. He ducked through it.

It was a stairway as he had surmised. Satisfied that there would be less traffic on the stairs as opposed to a nearby elevator, he traversed down them, ever vigilant about listening for other footsteps or doors opening.

Billy moved quickly, but quietly, taking a glance through every door window at the landings of each floor. He was still in unfamiliar territory. He didn't know which floor contained the prisoners so he had to carefully check each floor for any kind of evidence or familiarity.

A couple more flights down, he spied through the latest door window and saw two guards dragging an unconscious prisoner likely back to his cell. Observing the emaciated condition, Billy felt empathy for the man's plight, understanding it all too well. He had looked that way once, depleted of nourishment and hope.

He stiffened against the wall, closed his eyes and panted to keep panic from seeping into his body.

He had found the prison floor.

He felt his courage seeping out of him. It was one thing to be in an unfamiliar place, he could keep his dread in check.

Now that he had found where he had lived for three months in degradation, real terror was now settling into his body. And he despised himself for the almost overwhelming alarms going off in his mind.

All he had wanted to do was turn back, run away, call Fay and Adele, tell them where to find the compound and leave it to others to make the rescue, but then he heard it. Someone whimpering in the hallway, begging to be let go, bargaining with the guards that he would do anything if they would just let him die.

Billy had wished for that as well and he knew that the man would be sorely disappointed. His pleas would go unheeded.

He closed his eyes and thought about his friends, facing the same debasement and he knew that he had no choice, that it was the right choice, the only choice. A choice that he wanted to make happen, to overcome the potentially paralyzing anxiety he knew was just within his reach if he chose to surrender to it. He forced his spy skills to push away the anxiety if not the fear and strategically thought out his next moves. He had to analyze the situation.

The good news was Michael, Rick and Casey hadn't been prisoners long. At best, Adele had gotten to him as soon as they had gone dark. At most, five days. Not exactly comforting, but short enough of a duration that Casey would still be viable as long as there weren't any broken bones, always a possibility if Casey had encouraged his innermost weapon and fought back with his usual zeal, a full-on thrashing the reward for his rebellion.

Rick was the one Billy worried about the most. He was still young and idealistic. Those qualities could be double-edged swords in these situations. At least he wasn't alone. He had Michael and Casey to help him navigate, but Billy worried nonetheless that at the end of this experience, Rick would be scarred psychologically that much more quickly. Torturers didn't play by patriotic rules. There was no Geneva Convention here. The love of the ruble over the love of the motherland that he had pointed out in Volgograd played out here in stark brutality. The price for having broken a spy was in of itself priceless. It removed yet one more impediment to the more sinister machinations of greed and opportunity and it would serve as an effective morale breaker, showcasing how fragile a man's ego, a man's loyalty were. It was a win-win.

So, first thing to do was to set in motion the tactics he employed in those early days of his captivity before the torture began to wear down his resolve. He was concentrating and focusing on all of the nuances that went on around him. Guard shift changes, the changes in direction they made as they led him down the hallways, how many of them were patrolling the hallways and their intervals, the number of steps from his cell to the torturer's den of iniquity. His concentration had been vivid and razor sharp for several days, maybe even weeks, even after bones had been broken and copious amounts of blood had been spilled. He had left no detail unrecorded. He had worried though that by the end of it all, all of that valuable intell would have been washed away with the anguish of betrayal, but trying to rally his focus at that moment, he was relieved and pleased to find them easily recalled.

It was time to leave his insecurities behind. They had no place where he was going and what he had to accomplish.

"Right then," he said. "Once more onto the breach, shall we, aye?"

**TBC – Thanks for reading**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hour of Darkness**

**Chapter 2:**

Inspired by and dedicated to Faye_Dartmouth and her co-author, lena7142. None of the characters are mine, but I was so moved by their story, Rack and Ruin, this one wrote itself with my own very Pollyanna twist to it. I highly recommend you read their story, it's a wonderful read.

_When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me_

_Speaking words of wisdom, let it be_

_And in my hour of darkness she is standing right in front of me_

_Speaking words of wisdom, let it be_

_-Let it be by The Beatles_

He looked through the door window again to make sure it was clear. He cocked his gun just in case, as a last resort, preferring not to use it if he could help it and bring unwanted attention to himself. He slunk out into the hallway and the faint smell of imprisonment was in the air. Nothing overwhelming, not yet anyway, but you couldn't move people in and out of fetid cells without the aroma that followed a body just short of decomposition or that had been swimming in its own juices.

Billy quivered with the memory then moved on. Each cell had its own window, not for the prisoners, it was much too high to look through for them, but for the guards to take a quick check of them. Billy had to do the same to locate his friends. He didn't know if they would be together in one cell or separated. There were psychological advantages to both. He had to hope they would be together, if for no other reason than for Rick's sake.

For each glance and finding a broken soul on the other side of the glass, Billy had to contain his gag reflex and more difficultly, his need to free them all. In the end, those who were already wounded past the point of being able to walk under their own power, let alone psychologically scarred, cowering in a corner for fear it was a guard coming to take them away again, were better off left behind. It sounded cruel, but they would either hold them back from escaping or just be recaptured and suffer greater torture for their audacity for even trying to escape.

Tsykalov. He had been killed for his defiance.

Billy had to wipe the memory away. Memorials for lost lives and lost opportunities had to wait until he had freed his friends. He had a lifetime for recriminations.

Finally, he got to one cell and he saw Casey. He was uncharacteristically quiet, caged agitation would be what Billy would have expected to have seen. That didn't bode well. Still, he didn't look severely injured and Billy needed his help.

He slid the card through, the lock disengaged with a click and he opened the door. The first thing that assaulted him was the expected smell. These cells didn't have housekeeping services. He looked over to where Casey should have been. When he didn't see him there, he knew exactly where to look.

Casey was positioned to Billy's right, ready to punch and kick. He had maneuvered into position as soon as he heard the lock. Billy had to smile. Casey was still Casey. His spirit as yet unbroken.

"Whoa, there, sonny," Billy said with a whisper. "I wouldn't render the person who's come to your rescue unconscious. That would be against both of our interests."

Casey barely relaxed, could only stare at Billy in shock and there was something else there. Relief. It gave Billy pause to silence the human weapon with just his mere presence.

"While I enjoy leaving you utterly speechless, a rare event I might add, and a goal of mine for the six years that we've been together, I fear we'll have to celebrate our glorious reunion later. I need your weaponry to fetch the others."

Casey then relaxed entirely, swallowed, exhaled a long breath as if he had been holding it for days releasing the tension in his muscles and said, "What took you so long?"

His expression was barely holding back the emotion of seeing his friend, the friend that he had written off in order to deal with his own grief at having not rescued him quickly enough.

Billy could only smile.

"Aye, classic Casey. I've actually missed that hardened cynicism of yours."

Billy then looked out into the hallway to see if the coast was clear.

"Right, better make haste I suspect. If memory serves, we have about ten minutes before the next spot check. You wouldn't happen to know where the others are, would you? It would quicken the pace of getting out of here significantly," Billy said, his teasing tone feeling normal to him and he enjoyed its easy return. "I'm not in favor of overstaying our welcome here."

"I don't know where they are," Casey said, almost dejected. "They split us up when we got captured."

"Well, it was a thought," Billy said. "How are you holding up?"

Billy knew Casey would lie to him about the true nature of his injuries, but even an injured Casey was all the weapon Billy needed.

"I'm fine. I just need to expend some pent up energy," Casey said, the venom in his voice not lost on Billy and it brought a smile.

"You wouldn't happen to know how the others are fairing by chance?" Billy's concern evident.

Casey sighed, the only obvious tell that Casey couldn't control and that gave Billy a chill.

"They'd sometimes bring us all in to watch one of us get interrogated, hoping that the others would break to save him."

Billy nodded in understanding. "Aye, nothing like having an audience. The Romans would have nothing on these blokes."

"It's been the hardest on Michael," Casey said.

Billy gave him a surprised expression. It was a comment he wasn't expecting to hear.

"Michael?"

"Not because of the torture, but because -"

Recognition lit up on Billy's face.

"Ah, they're sparing him the physical torture, but doing much worse to him psychologically by making him watch helplessly as they torture the rest of you."

"Especially Rick. They've figured out that I can take it, but Rick..."

Billy nodded. "I feared as much. All the more incentive to hurry this along then."

"You'd be proud of the kid. He's been holding his own," Casey commented, hoping it would ease Billy's anxiety.

Billy bowed his head.

"I'd much rather he was proving his mettle anywhere else than here and not under these circumstances."

Billy looked back up into the eyes of his friend.

"I've always been proud of the lad, of all of you," Billy said with pride and sympathy. "It's what made breaking all the worse for me."

Casey nodded. He felt frustration at possessing the one skill he needed at that moment, expression of his feelings. Billy smiled and patted him on the shoulder, telling him he didn't have to say anything.

Billy tried handing Casey the gun, but Casey shook his head, opting to face his captors hand-to-hand, trusting Billy to do what's needed if it should become necessary.

Billy smiled. "Right, then, best be off."

Casey grasped his arm, making Billy look back.

"I'm sorry," Casey said, the shame on his face evident and raw, "for not getting to you in time."

Billy was now the one who had been left gobsmacked for a moment. It was a simple statement, but one that carried huge implications for both men. Casey hardly ever apologized so it meant the world to Billy to hear him admit to a failing that Billy didn't hold against him. He gave Casey a nod and a small smile.

"There's no need for that. I understand."

Casey nodded. "Let's go."

Having Casey covering his back was allowing Billy to let his guard down a little and the consolation was welcome as his body released its tension, still his concern for Rick's physical well-being and Michael's emotional one preyed on his mind.

Billy continued to look into each window as Casey played lookout for guards or any other unwelcome obstacles to their rescue of the others. Casey then bumped into Billy.

"What the -" Casey said irritably.

When he turned around, he saw Billy using his key card again. He had a grave expression on his face and it made Casey blanch.

When Billy opened the door, he saw Rick. His face was battered, bruised, and swollen. Along his neck, there was a rope burn dark and angry, bleeding. It made Billy stiffen with rising and renewed rage. Rick hadn't even flinched as Casey had when the door had opened. He sat laxly, his limbs limp. Billy couldn't tell if Rick was even conscious.

Billy's expression was determined and filled with resolve. He knew what had to be done even if he wasn't sure of how he would cope with it. The whole mission had been one test after another for him and thus far, Billy had been able to grapple each challenge, if not with the same gusto that he had possessed before, then at least with enough grit as he could muster to accomplish what was necessary. What he was thinking of doing now could prove to be the most daunting challenge, but it was not for himself. It was for Rick. Decision made, he handed Casey his key card.

He looked at it confused.

"Go find Michael and come back for us," Billy said, matter of fact.

Billy's gesture of trust was not lost on Casey. There was always a risk that he'd be recaptured or that the captors would find Billy with Rick, putting Billy back in the cross hairs of his torturers. It took courage for him to risk imprisonment again, but Casey had always known that he had possessed such courage. That had never been in doubt.

"We can take Rick with us," Casey said as the absurdity of the statement rung in his own ears.

"No, he's far too injured for the two of us to carry through the halls. We'll be caught for sure. No, you have to find Michael, hope to God that he's in good shape and come back for us. It's the only choice, mate and you know it."

Billy then spied something minute in Casey's eyes, a barely perceptible twitch of uncertainty.

"I can't leave him like this, Casey. More to the point, I won't leave him to face whatever is next alone."

Billy's words struck Casey in his chest.

"But...what about..." he trailed off unable to gather the right words into his mouth.

"What? Have I rendered the great Casey Malick speechless twice in one day? Surely a red letter day this is," he teased.

Casey just stood, feeling the internal turmoil that was raging within him, not enjoying feeling like King Solomon having to make an unacceptable choice.

"It'll be all right..." Billy reassured and it hadn't been a false sentiment. "I'm all right. I'll be fine."

Casey found it hard to command his legs to move for a second. It brought a sly grin to Billy's face, but then it fell. He then handed Casey his cell phone.

"Casey? If you can't make it back, don't try, you understand, yeh? Get out of here. Get another extraction team and come back, if you have to, but you and Michael HAVE to make it out if it comes to making that choice. All of this will be for nothing if you get recaptured and I promise you there will be nothing worse for me than that."

Casey choked on an inhaled breath and could only nod since protesting would only waste precious minutes they didn't have.

Billy's words edged Casey on and he nodded as he rushed out of the room, knowing time was of the essence if both of his friends were going to escape with him and Michael. On that, he was resolved.

Billy watched the door slowly close in front of him, the audible click of the lock engaging again. He felt his stomach contract with fear. Once again he was a prisoner, but when he looked over at Rick, at the bruises and blood coating his face and neck, he knew he had made the right choice.

It had been the only choice.

**ChaosChaosChaos**

Rick began to stir. Every move he made brought wave after wave of pain and he moaned. Even breathing and moaning brought pain. Suddenly he sensed that he wasn't alone and he flinched trying to see through his swollen eyes.

"There, there, Rick. You needn't fear."

Rick was confused at first then fearful that he had finally lost his mind.

"Billy?" He said plaintively, hope and anxiety colliding.

"Aye, it's me, lad, in the flesh," Billy tried to reassure.

But instead of being happy to see him, Rick recoiled.

"No, no, you're not here! You can't be here!"

Billy's heart felt like breaking. Rick was slowly entering the darkness of doubt and terror. He hoped that he wasn't too late, that it was just a knee jerk reaction versus a transformation of thinking.

"Rick, listen to me, you're not going mad, lad, I promise you. I'm really here," he said, while slowly placing a comforting hand on Rick's shoulder.

Rick calmed, but there was no comfort there. He slumped against the wall, grimacing with pain.

"Then I wish I were hallucinating because if you're here, it means you've been captured too and that's the last thing I wanted."

Billy understood the meaning of Rick's words. He was both touched and saddened.

"I think I preferred Casey's reaction to my return. He only just tried to kill me. Course, he's always trying to do that," Billy teased, hoping to lighten the moment.

Rick tilted his head with confusion.

"What?"

"I see that a wee bit of explanation is needed here. I wasn't forcibly extended an invitation this time. I crashed the party on my own. I fear the life has most assuredly gone out of this particular party and it's time for us to leave."

Rick's expression was hard to read through the bruising and swelling, but Billy heard a choke of tears.

"You came back to rescue us?"

"Aye, now you've got it. Now, rest up, for when Casey gets back, we'll be needing to hit the ground running."

Rick let out a sigh and some sobs. Billy pulled him towards him to reassure him of his presence and to comfort him.

"But...what happened to you...you shouldn't be here."

Billy felt saddened by the impression that Rick would forever have of him, of being weak and afraid. He'd have to rebuild that trust again even with his own uncertainty looming over him. Saving his friends was the first step towards defeating that uncertainty, facing it head on in the very place he had lost everything.

"Nor should any of you, lad. You came here to avenge my imprisonment and now it's my turn to return the favor. I'll not lie to you, I am far from the man you once knew, perhaps, I will never be that man again, but if I am ever going to do the craft again, trust myself with all of you again, I must face and defeat that fear. More importantly, I could not have your lives be lost to the monster who destroyed me. THAT, I will not allow to happen. Besides, wasn't it you who told me that I shouldn't surrender? Well, here I am."

Rick took in a breath and tried to smile.

Then a sound came from the door and Billy watched Rick involuntarily flinch. He well understood the reaction. He was just barely keeping himself under control, trying to keep the visceral response from emerging.

He had hoped it was Casey and Michael so that they could leave this place.

He was sorely disappointed. You'd think he'd be used to that by now.

Two guards stood at the door, both surprised at finding Billy there with Rick.

"Кто вы?" _"Who are you?"_ one of them asked in Russian.

"Ваш худший кошмар," _"Your worst nightmare,"_ Billy replied back.

Rick stared at Billy incredulously.

"What are you doing? What did you say to him?" Rick asked, noting the angry expression on the one who had asked the question. "Because whatever it was, it's not making him happy."

"Nor should it, lad. Didn't learn your Russian, aye? Let me translate then. He asked me who I was and I told him I was his worst nightmare."

"WHAT?" Rick yelled back, suddenly feeling a rush of adrenaline from the shock of Billy's cavalier attitude.

It enlivened him and if it weren't for the pain, he would have relished its return.

The guards then came further into the room.

"No! Get away! Leave him alone!" Rick yelled as he watched the guard with the angry expression pull Billy up to his feet as the other one lifted Rick.

Billy was touched that Rick, even in his battered state would place himself into harm's way to protect him. He enjoyed watching Rick's courage emerge victorious. Heart of a hero. He had known it from the start.

"It's all right, lad. Keep your wits about you. Besides, they don't understand a lick of English."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Don't worry. I have a plan."

"Really? Well, would you mind cluing me in on it, please?"

"That would take away from the element of surprise, now wouldn't it?"

Rick could only sigh. Though hearing the defiance mixed with the sarcastic humor of the old Billy was comforting, he feared a certain recklessness stemming from the need to exact revenge on what had happened to him, still, he trusted Billy and would follow his lead.

They were walked out of their cell and Billy, ever observant, spotted Casey, with Michael just within his peripheral vision. He smiled. They were both safe and he knew they would remain that way. He could concentrate on saving Rick now.

The guard noticed Billy's smile.

"Что ты улыбаешься?" _"What are you smiling about?"_

"ничего," _"Nothing," _Billy said as he was shoved forward.

Casey and Michael looked dispirited at what they were witnessing.

"I can take them," Casey said, teeth gritted.

"I know you can, but we still have Rick to consider. He's in bad shape. Billy's right, we'd never make it out of here. We have to get help."

Casey gave Michael the steeliest glare he could muster.

"I AM **NOT** LEAVING THEM," Casey hissed.

Michael understood and didn't take offense.

"I know. We're not leaving them, but we need more back up."

Casey was trying to control his breathing.

"You go get the back up," Casey said, giving Michael the cell phone and key card Billy had given him. "I'm staying with them so I'll know who to rip a new one if anything happens."

Before Michael could protest, Casey was away. Michael had never been as proud of his team as he was at that moment. It was up to him to make sure they all made it out this time.

The guards pushed Billy and Rick down the hall. Rick was moving slowly and trying to keep himself from stumbling. Billy wished he could help, but he had to play cagey. If Casey were with him, they would have put down the guards immediately, but Rick was in bad shape, in worse shape than Billy had first noticed. He watched as Rick curled into himself, his right arm pressed against his side. His ribs were probably bruised, maybe broken. He had a limp, at the very least his legs or knees had been beaten. If broken, he wouldn't be walking at all, not that it would have stopped the guards from making him walk, but if he couldn't, they would be dragging him and the toll on his feet and ankles would then be added to the injuries list. Billy understood the signs of each of those injuries. He had had them and more. His only comfort was that Rick had yet to be completely shattered, but he knew it wouldn't be far behind if they stayed any longer.

There was a schedule to these things. Body, bones, muscles, spirit, soul. Billy would know that progression for the rest of his life. Seeing Rick's suffering made him realize that no matter what happened to him now, his friends needed him, was depending on him to aid in their escape with the knowledge that only he had possessed from his time there and he would make use of every bitter moment to help them, to help Rick. He understood now that was why he was there.

For them.

They finally reached a door and one of the guards used their key card to gain entry. They opened it and shoved both of them into the room. One guard entered, the other stood watch outside.

Rick tripped into the room and fell. Billy just wavered on his feet. Once steadied, he helped Rick up from the floor.

"Ah, so we are back, are we? Just couldn't stay away, aye?"

Billy froze in place for a moment.

He recognized the voice. It didn't belong to the Commander, but he knew it. The recognition brought a chill and a resurgence of phantom pain, long healed, but shockingly and easily recalled as if he had never left his prison. It hit him square in the chest. He slowly turned, looked up and had to swallow back a gasp.

Tsykalov.

"Hello, Vasili. Surprised to see me, no?"

**TBC – Thanks for reading**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hour of Darkness**

**Chapter 3:**

Inspired by and dedicated to Faye_Dartmouth and her co-author, lena7142. None of the characters are mine, but I was so moved by their story, Rack and Ruin, this one wrote itself with my own very Pollyanna twist to it. I highly recommend you read their story, it's a wonderful read.

Billy's body shook from recall and rage. He placed himself in front of Rick, his protective instincts kicking in over the shock and fear he felt at seeing someone he hadn't expected to see, whom he had thought was dead.

"You look like you've seen a ghost, Vasili," Tsykalov taunted with a smile. "You're probably thinking to yourself, 'wait, I saw you die, shot in front of me, brains splattered all over the walls of my cell'. Yes?"

Billy straightened, the disdain on his face creased his features as he struggled to maintain his calm. It was a battle to fight his impulse to want to run, to cower and whimper in defeat at the newly discovered revelation of Tsylalov's betrayal and of the ruse that had caused his inevitable downfall. The pain in his chest threatened to suffocate him and break the resolve he was desperately trying to keep in place for Rick's sake.

"Well played, Tsykalov. Well played, indeed. Shakespeare would have been right proud of the performance you showcased for your audience of one. You did a right thorough job of tricking me through your chicanery, though you really can't take full credit for my downfall, now can you? After all, I was already well on my way to madness thanks to Rezin. I was just one push away from breaking and you knew just the right amount of pressure to exert, didn't you? Still, clearly you intimidated that poor bastard impersonator of yours to do your bidding or rather, did you prey on his desperation and offer him something he had no will left to resist? Hope for freedom, perhaps? My only consolation is that the man found some measure of peace," Billy said as calmly as he could muster, feeling his tenuous grasp on it slipping ever so slowly.

Rick had watched the exchange confused at first but then the pieces began to come together.

"Intimidate? I am hurt by your accusation, Vasili. I did no such thing. Now, I may have promised him freedom, but I admit that I was probably a bit non-specific with the kind of freedom I would afford him," Tsykalov said with a feigned apologetic tone. "Is it my fault that he harbored such false hope?"

And there it was, that word that could both be a blessing and a curse. Hope could drive a man to do things that he could never dream possible, but it could also break a man until there was nothing left to reassemble him. Billy wasn't all together sure he was completely reassembled himself or that he would ever be again.

Billy's body grew rigid with anger. He understood the desperation that the poor man who had died must have felt and the rekindled hope that maybe he would escape the place alive if he just did that one thing for Tsykalov.

"You are a right bastard, you are," Billy said, his tone barely veiling his rage.

"Perhaps, but you have to admit it was quite effective. It was at that precise moment that I knew I was not far from breaking you. I knew then that your ultimate undoing would be your humanity. Just like your friend there. Rick, isn't it? His humanity is even greater so it will require more than just compassion for a stranger, correct?"

Billy's expression then transformed and he allowed the seething anger to reveal itself.

"You leave him alone or so help me, I will rain Hell upon you the likes of which you have never seen," Billy threatened, his voice just on the brink of yelling, his teeth gritted, his jaw tight. "Do not underestimate me."

"Billy, don't." Rick pleaded, seeing a madness that could topple Billy.

"Ever the poet, aye, Vasili? Oh, I had plans for your friend, there, but now that you are here, I think we change those plans, yes? Refocus our efforts, perhaps?"

Billy understood and smiled.

Rick felt a cold and icy shiver go up his spine.

"No, no, whatever it is, it won't work," Rick pleaded, knowing it was to no avail, that no one in the room was listening to him anymore and he knew that he held no power in his grasp to stop whatever would happen next.

"Ready our trespasser here."

"No, no, leave him alone!" Rick kept yelling because he was helpless to do anything else.

Billy looked over at Rick and felt anguish for what he was about to put him through, but he was as sure of what he wanted to have happen as he was that all he needed to do was stall for time. He had been through the worst and survived for three months. A few more hours would be nothing.

"Rick, listen to me. Do NOT give anything to this man. You hear me? I did and it cost me everything I hold dear. I will be all right. I promise you, I will be all right."

Rick's eyes filled with tears as he watched the guards strip Billy's vest, shirt and tie. They restrained him again by holding his arms behind him, dangerously close to dislocating both shoulders. All he saw was Billy's acquiescence and yet there was also a calm about him, an acceptance as well as a sense of purpose.

He saw all of Billy's healed scars from his last encounter with this monster and Rick blanched. It brought anger to him and he hated that he wasn't in any condition to help Billy. Still, he saw that Billy's expression held no fear. There was only determination there.

"Let us see how long your friend's humanity will last when he sees you suffering, aye? Seems like old times, yes?"

Billy smirked then laughed.

"I'm far from the man you knew back then, Tsykalov. You did a right thorough job in breaking me, I give you that. Rick will attest to how shattered I was, maybe still am, irrevocably so, perhaps, but the man you see before you now, no longer fears you, no longer fears what's to come for you see, I've seen Hell and I plan to take you there myself this time. So do your worst, but I guarantee that it will be you who will be broken this time."

Tsykalov found himself pale a bit at hearing Billy's declarations and seeing the solidarity of his conviction, still, he had seen that defiance before just after his capture so he tabled his concern.

"Strong words for a man who will be that much easier to break the second time around knowing your vulnerabilities. Besides, I heard those idle threats before when you were first captured. A little reminder of the pain should humble you."

Tsykalov snapped his fingers and the guards began to beat Billy, pummeling him with punches, but Billy barely flinched with them. Rick tried to help, but he was being restrained by another guard and he had no strength left to break free.

"Is that the best you got?" Billy taunted in between punches. "I've got a mate who'll do you one better."

Billy felt the pain of each blow, but did his best to keep himself stoic. He clenched and did as much as he could to go with each blow. Tsykalov watched with irritation at Billy's clenched smile and the occasional laugh that would come through.

Rick watched in awe at Billy taking blow after blow with tenacity. Though he worried about whether Billy's sanity had slipped being reintroduced to the place that had torn him apart, what he saw in his eyes now was power. It was as if he was taking back what he had lost here as well as taking back the submission he had shown to this man in particular. Rick didn't know the details, but clearly this man had been at the root of Billy's eventual break and by facing him down, Billy was winning back the man he had been.

"You won't...win this time, Tsykalov," Billy uttered between punches and breaths. "I will not let you do to Rick what you did to me...He won't...see someone on the brink of surrender or begging for mercy. Even if you kill me outright...like you did...to that poor impersonator...I know that he knows I've triumphed over you. You're right...his humanity is greater than mine...it's why he will overcome whatever he sees...he's not weak like I was...like I am."

Rick listened and understood the underlying message Billy was giving to him through his words to Tsykalov. Don't give in, don't compromise anything to save him because he didn't need saving. It was a message that filled Rick with an emotional turmoil. His instincts warring with his friendship, but he also knew that Billy was asking him to honor this wishes, that doing so would give Billy the peace of mind that had so eluded him over the past year.

Billy felt the punches weakening him, but that was more from lack of physical training. His spirit was fighting and he enjoyed the feeling. He would channel it to save Rick, reinvigorate himself knowing that he was fighting for more than himself this time. He had realized that when he was there before, he was campaigning for his own rescue, using that hope to drive his rebellion, but when no rescue came and the torture became more intense and brutal, he no longer cared what happened to him and he broke because of it. Now, he had his raison d'être in front of him. Rick needed him to be strong and Billy knew rescue was on its way to them.

He also needed to keep on stalling. He didn't know what Casey and Michael had planned, but he knew they were free and that knowledge alone was enough for him to keep Tsykalov and his men preoccupied. He needed to protect Rick from the abuse he was suffering at that moment. He would do everything he could to do that.

"Do NOT give in to his monster, Rick. I'm asking you...for me...do not abdicate your soul for me. I'm at peace..."

Rick felt the rising tide of pride and helplessness as he heard Billy plead to him, not to his torturers, to resist sacrificing himself for Billy.

"Enough!" Tsykalov commanded and the guards stopped.

The moment allowed Billy to take in a few breaths to compose himself, ready for what he knew would be more to come.

"What? Done already? Haven't scratched the surface, not nearly," Billy taunted. "I think you've lost your edge there. Where's the Commander, aye? Now there's a man with technique and imagination."

Tsykalov turned to Rick.

"He's right, you know. We have yet to scratch the surface. This is how it starts. Glimmers of hope then the denials begin, that rescue is shortly at hand. Other techniques are employed until hope is all but extinguished. Vasili here -"

"The name's Billy. William Collins, born and bruised in North Edinburgh, former agent for the British Secret Service, proud operative of the ODS now. Get it straight there, Tsykalov. Rick, don't listen to this megalomaniac. I'm far from finished."

A guard punched him across the face and Billy just spit out blood. Tsykalov turned back to Billy.

"Your friend will sacrifice you eventually. I see the turmoil in his eyes, watching you suffer. Just like I saw them in your eyes. Perhaps he would be more compliant more quickly if we sped up the process, aye?" Tsykalov said as he produced a hypodermic from his pocket.

"What is that? What are you going to do?" Rick protested.

Billy started to laugh.

"Fear not, Rick. Ah, finally, then, we cut to the quick, yeh? Is that the adrenaline that the Commander doled out so generously the last time? It and I have quite an intimate relationship."

"This is a much more potent concoction, my friend. I'm going to silence you permanently, Vasili. I grow tired of your bravado. I don't need you anymore. You made a serious mistake coming back here. I think it's time that we end this little reunion, don't you think? It will be a pleasure to do the job myself," Tsykalov said as he plunged the needle into Billy's arm.

"NO!" Rick screamed.

Just at that moment, the concussive force of an explosion rocked the room. The guards went to the door, began to open it when it was then thrown open and there was Casey in full battle mode, releasing the pent up anger and guilt with unmitigated ferocity.

Billy grimaced from the shot, but kept his razor focus. The guards who had restrained him had let him go to fight off the incoming attackers. He pulled out the hypodermic from his arm, but kept it in his hands. His eyes sought out Tsykalov and spotted him trying to slog through the invading troupe of men coming into the room. He was escaping. Billy had to stop him from going underground only to resurface months even years later to continue exacting his terror on other innocents.

Rick felt adrenaline enter his body as he spied Michael entering, behind him other men, in what looked like military police increased the odds in their favor. Michael headed towards Rick.

"No, no, I'm okay, get to Billy, Tsykalov injected something into him," Rick called out panicking.

Michael complied as he headed toward his friend.

"Billy!" Michael called again.

"Take care of Rick," Billy uttered, seemingly unfazed by whatever had been injected into him, but a grimace showing otherwise. "I have some unfinished business to tend to."

He ran towards Tsykalov and tackled him down to the ground. Pain rippled through his body, but he pushed it back, concentrating on keeping Tsykalov from escaping.

Then a new pain began to assert itself. It radiated from his chest and his breathing began to strain. Still, he exerted all the energy he had and yanked Tsykalov down to the ground. He then took the hypodermic and plunged it into his neck.

Tsykalov screamed in shock and pain.

"We die together, Tsykalov, yeh?" Billy said as the pain worsened. "Two men...who deserve to pay for their betrayals. Are you ready to meet your Maker, aye?"

Tsykalov felt the effects take hold as well but because of where Billy had injected him, the effects were a lot swifter.

"You are no better than me now, Vasili..." Tsykalov taunted, as he gasped for each breath. "In the end...a man of your principles...I have destroyed you once again..."

"Perhaps...that man is surely no more. He died when he gave up hope. What you see now is not necessarily a better man, but one forged anew from your torments. What you did to me and to others, you did for sport...what I did, I did to save my friends...to spare others what you did to me...I can go to my grave satisfied...with that knowledge...so this time...I...I win..."

Tsykalov choked on his last breath and stilled.

Billy felt the exertion accelerate the drug through his own body and could only collapse to his knees then to the floor.

Rick, Michael and Casey went to his side as the the reinforcements took care of the guards.

"Billy, Billy, hang on, help is coming..." Michael urged.

Billy looked upon his friends and knew that he had accomplished the mission he had come for. He wouldn't be sorry if it ended with his death. He had been ready for it, had come to terms with it and for a time had begged for it. If he died now, it would finally be on his terms and that death wasn't cowardly.

"I...I won..." was all Billy could utter before he stopped breathing.

Casey shoved everyone aside and began CPR with a fervor.

"No, you don't, damn it!" He yelled.

Michael ran and grabbed the medical team.

Rick's own adrenaline was long gone and he felt his own unconsciousness envelope him, but he felt tears filling his eyes.

"No, not after everything..."

**TBC – Thanks for reading.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hour of Darkness**

**Chapter 4:**

Inspired by and dedicated to Faye_Dartmouth and her co-author, lena7142. None of the characters are mine, but I was so moved by their story, Rack and Ruin, this one wrote itself with my own very Pollyanna twist to it. I highly recommend you read their story, it's a wonderful read.

The horrific mission that was Morovia was finally accomplished. The ODS could finally close the door on it and walk away, but they wouldn't walk away from it whole.

All of them had to be hospitalized for the injuries they had incurred while imprisoned before they could go home. Rick had the worst of it with broken ribs, fractures in both of his legs, a concussion and other bumps and bruises. Still, all in all, it could have been worse.

They all knew that Billy had incurred much worse in his first brush with Morovia.

In his second brush, he had been beaten, but nothing had been broken, still he had been injected with a substance that had stopped his heart. Michael had the presence of mind to grab the syringe and between the Company chemists and ransacking Tsykalov's office files, they had determined that the fluid that had been injected into Billy was a chemical cocktail, the base of which was adrenaline and potassium chloride. Between Casey's frantic yet precise CPR and the medical team, they were able to keep Billy alive and stable. Still, he was once again, unconscious in a hospital and the men who were his friends were once again desperately waiting for some sign that he would be waking up.

Rick wheeled himself to Billy's room every day, unable to rest himself until he checked in on him.

Casey's visits were as much guard duty as they were ways for him to affirm that Billy was still alive. Psychologically, Casey was the one on the shakiest ground. He kept berating himself that he should have prevented their capture when they had sought to end the mission in Morovia. Billy's rescue attempt then subsequent recapture as well as his torture revisited just piled on more emotion than Casey could handle all at once, but with Billy back among them, he was slowly coming to terms as only Casey could, systematically, one emotion at a time, one percent at a time.

Michael felt the weight of all of his men, both their physical and psychological injuries. He felt that he had failed them all on one level or another, sitting by Billy's bedside yet again only magnified the weight.

Rick wheeled in while Michael was on vigil.

"You can go home. I can take over now," Rick offered softly.

"Go home to what? To a hotel room where I can't sleep anyway. No, I think I'll just wait here."

Rick nodded. Michael looked over at Rick and sighed.

"I'm sorry, kid."

"For what?"

"For letting them torture you like that, for not being able to do more."

"There was nothing you could have done. I understand that. I'm glad you didn't give in. I admired that."

Michael grimaced at the compliment he felt he didn't deserve.

"Maybe I couldn't do anything for you then, but there was a lot I could have done...no, that I **should** have done to prepare you, to make sure you knew that you could break and I'd still be there for you," Michael said almost dreamily. "That we'd all be there for you."

Suddenly, Rick wondered how much of what Michael was saying was directed at him and how much of it was towards Billy.

"I do know that. Billy does too."

Michael laughed.

"Does he? Billy should have known that, but he...he didn't because I didn't..."

Rick had never seen Michael so precariously close to crying. Every one's nerves were on edge, but it seemed that the mission to Morovia had taken a piece out of every one, a piece that they knew they could never get back.

"I've been down this road so many times...too many times. It's the worst part of this job, making life and death choices for someone other than yourself. Don't get me wrong, I know what I signed up for and I take full responsibility for those decisions, but there are times when...I do question whether...I do enough...whether I did a good enough job of telling all of you that I would be there...no matter what."

Michael trailed off feeling either too cowardly or too arrogant or both to admit his insecurity, asking Rick for his confidence...hoping that Billy had that same confidence.

"I understand. Would it make you feel better to know that it's not always about you?" Rick said, without recrimination.

Michael, though, vulnerable at that moment, nodded his head quickly and grimaced at making his admission at a time like that. He was truly a bastard in every sense of the word.

"Right, I get it, pretty selfish of me," Michael said hurriedly, hoping to brush the conversation under the proverbial rug.

Rick realized it and shook his head in retraction.

"No, no, that's not what I meant. I can't speak for Billy, but I'm almost positive he feels the same way," Rick said sympathetically. "It's not that you or even the rest of the CIA could question our loyalty or as Billy once put it poetically, our devotion to good, it's about self-doubt, that **we** wouldn't be able to trust ourselves again, that we'd disappoint you and the agency. You didn't put that there so you don't have to take responsibility for it."

Michael listened with apt respect for someone so young who understood so much about life as a spy and had possessed the necessary compassion to see both sides.

"Thanks, Rick," Michael said. "We're all proud of you. I hope you know that, but it bears saying. You came out the other side of darkness whole."

Rick smiled.

"Billy will too. I know it."

"He's lucky to have you, you know."

Rick flushed slightly with embarrassment.

"At the risk of sounding maudlin, I think we're the lucky ones. Billy's taught me that you can overcome anything if you have friends."

Michael smiled then they both gazed over at Billy, helpless against the uncertainty that filled their chests.

Over the following few hours into the next morning, Billy's vitals began to strengthen and stabilize. He emerged from unconsciousness able to breath on his own, if still weak from the drug. He awoke to find friends surrounding him and he couldn't help but smile.

"Ah, like Lazarus I rise once again to fight the good fight another day, aye? Thought I'd used up all of my lives by now," Billy said teasingly.

Billy saw Rick in the wheelchair, looking tired himself, but with a bright smile returning back at him.

"How are you doing, lad?"

"Good. Better now that you're back."

His enthusiasm warmed Billy's heart.

"How are you feeling?" Michael asked.

"A bit knackered, I admit."

"Should we leave to let you rest?" Rick asked.

"No, no, being amongst your friendly faces gives me comfort. If I happen to nod off, I hope you'll forgive me."

"Granting forgiveness is a waste of energy. You either always have it or you don't," Casey blurted.

Everyone turned their gazes toward him and if Casey knew how to blush, he would have been blushing bright red.

Billy smiled jovially.

"Quite right, mate. I heartily concur. Does that mean I have your implicit forgiveness for every transgression that I've committed towards you and from here hence?"

Michael shook his head. Leave it Billy to receive Casey's reluctant inch and take a mile from it.

Casey glared, but you could see behind it a sense of relief, that the rapport that had been MIA for over a year was back again. Casey was a man of routine and regime so it stood to reason that he had been off kilter, struggling to regain his balance that was the seesaw of their lives after Billy had been found barely alive after three months of captivity. There had been days when he had come off completely callous and cruel, but it was the only coping mechanism he knew. He had to either let Billy go or grasp onto him as if he were a lifeline to his own sanity. For that year, Casey rocked back and forth on that seesaw unable to find his stoic center because Billy's voice was lost to him. For all of its annoying qualities, Casey had missed Billy telling him not to take things so seriously so that he could argue back the complete opposite.

"Right, I've overstepped then," Billy said with a fading smile as his eyes began to flutter in exhaustion.

Michael noticed.

"All right, with that, we'll let you sleep."

"Michael? May I have a word?" Billy asked.

"Sure."

The others left, leaving Michael and Billy alone.

"What is it?" Michael asked.

"I haven't had a chance to thank you."

"For what? I owe you one. You saved our lives and I know how hard it must have been for you to go back there, to face what happened to you there."

Michael looked away contrite. Billy's esteem for his friend and leader only grew as it did for Casey and Rick.

"You don't owe me anything, Michael. None of you do. What you did for me the last year, being there for me through all of my battles? Don't think I didn't know how badly it had gotten. Lesser men would have written me off without a moment's hesitation and I know you thought about it. I know that Casey had to disengage in order to keep himself centered and I don't fault him for that nor would I have you and Rick neither if you both had done the same. So all the more important for me to tell you that I don't think I can ever do or say enough to show my gratitude for all you've done, but I wanted you to especially know how much it meant to me that you stayed with me during my hour of darkness."

Michael was humbled and surprised by Billy's words.

"Billy, I -"

"I'm sorry you had to witness how far into despair I had ventured."

"You had reason," Michael admitted.

"No, that's the point. I didn't. I know I blamed you, but I was wrong to do that. I see that now..."

"No, you weren't -"

"Yes, Michael, I was. You tried your level best and I should have understood that, known in my heart how much all of you struggled in your pursuit to find me. It's hardly fair to expect a timetable for rescue, is it? Illyich set me up. I virtually disappeared, no clues for you to trail my movement yet miraculously, you rescued me and that's all that should have mattered. I had lost hope, yes, but not because it took you three months to find me. I was in so much pain and I had to face some harsh truths about myself..." Billy said as he sighed and let the sentence die.

"I watched an innocent man die right before my eyes and that's what eventually did me in. Tsykalov did a right thorough job of breaking me down. He found the right pressure point and exerted upon it with merciless ferocity. He killed an innocent person whom he carefully crafted to make me believe was him...some one I thought I was befriending...helping through the nightmare of imprisonment...I thought I had caused..." Billy took in a breath. "No, I **did** cause that man's death in the end and that drove me under. I didn't care what happened to me anymore at that point. I stopped resisting. I was done for."

Michael had no words. He was left speechless in the wake of Billy's humility. He would always feel responsible for letting Billy down, but he couldn't deny that hearing Billy absolve him gave him a relief he hadn't allowed himself to feel. Billy had given him that and as he listened, he realized that the rescue was about Billy needing to face his fears in order to move on with his life.

"You needn't worry anymore. I may not be the man I once was and I fear it may take time to fully feel I can trust myself in the field again, trust myself with your lives in my still trembling hands, but I want you to know that I don't want to die. I didn't when you found me that horrific day and I don't now. I've come through the darkness."

Michael nodded in understanding unable to grasp the right words, his worst weakness, not being able to express his appreciation to his men, to his friends, but he knew that with Billy, he didn't have to.

Billy knew. He always knew. Even at his worst and darkest moments he knew.

The next day, Billy awoke feeling someone holding his hand. At first it left him feeling confused, but when his vision cleared, he saw that it was Adele.

When she noticed that he had awakened, she stood up to look at him eye-to-eye. Her smile was beaming at him and it gave him confirmation that he was truly back home.

"Deputy Director, to what do I owe the honor of your visit?" Billy asked tiredly, but with his usual impish grin.

"I just wanted to make sure you're all right," she said, but Billy could tell she was on the verge of tears.

"I'm quite all right. You needn't have worried."

Adele then couldn't hold back her tears. He felt the need to squeeze her hand in reassurance, but he was also worried.

"What's wrong? Has something happened to Rick?"

"No, no, I'm sorry," Adele said as she wiped her tears. "He's fine. I just saw him. He's getting better every day."

"A reason to be joyful, yeh? Why the tears?"

"Thank you..." Adele said quickly.

"For what?"

"For going back...for getting Rick and the others out...for risking everything because I asked. I know it was wrong of me to ask you, but...I couldn't..."

Billy felt a lump in his own throat seeing Adele so grateful and so upset.

"There, there, love, it wasn't wrong at all. Far from it. It was the right kick in the arse that I needed," Billy squeezed her hand again. "You gave me a reason to face my demons. I owe you my sanity and so much more for doing that. If you hadn't asked me and they had died without my lifting a finger to help them, I would have surely ended my life. That would have been the final blow. You saved me."

Adele looked into his eyes and saw the sincerity in them. She then leaned in gently to hug him.

"I'm glad you're back," she whispered in his ear.

He tentatively stroked her back.

"You and me, both," Billy said as he smiled while they disengaged. "You and me, both."

**ChaosChaosChaos**

Rick wheeled in later, relief still cascading over him at seeing Billy awake and getting better. Billy heard him, looked over and smiled.

"Ah, young Rick. How are you faring?" He greeted.

"Getting better. I have a lot of PT in my future, but all in all, I'm glad to be alive...thanks to you," Rick acknowledged.

Billy demurred at the recognition.

"I take no praise for your guts, nerve and grit under such horrific pressures. That, is to your credit."

It never ceased to amaze Rick how humble Billy was.

"But I will be by your side every step of the way as you recover. I fear Casey will be relentless and push us both to our limits. He will consider it his mission to make us tip top so this never happens again."

Billy smiled, but noticed that Rick seemed unusually quiet.

"Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing's wrong...I..." Rick stuttered.

"Clearly something's bothering you, mate," Billy said though his instincts suspected what it was.

"I'm scared..." Rick blurted, his voice and posture a mix of trembling, nervous laughter and of being on the verge of tears. "I've been having nightmares..."

Billy took in a long breath and gave him a sympathetic look.

"After all you risked to save us and all I can feel is afraid. I feel so guilty for pushing you before...now I understand and I feel like a hypocrite."

Billy nodded, his empathy for his friend powerful.

"You needn't feel guilty, lad. You have every right to feel as you do. You've been subjected to things that no one should ever have to endure and I'd give anything if you didn't have to feel that fear, but don't deny yourself by thinking it's a weakness. It isn't. And just as you were there for me, so I will be there for you to see you through it."

Billy saw Rick's trembling hands and it gave him an ache in his chest.

"More importantly, though, is that I will remind you of the courage you showed, the heroic attempts at protecting me, it's these that you should always remind yourself and when you falter in that endeavor, I shall be there to do it for you. There is no arrogance in that. I'm proud of you, mate and beyond that, I am grateful to you...to all of you."

Rick looked into Billy's eyes and they were clear, unwavering, and fearless with friendship. The sight brought relief to him.

"I'll be there for all of you. You will never be alone in your hour of darkness, Rick. Never."

**FIN - Thanks for hanging in and reading. I hope you enjoyed the read**.


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